


Light in the Darkness

by darthenna



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthenna/pseuds/darthenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman is obsessed with Fernando.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at footballkink.

Roman had never been attracted to men. Well, maybe he’d had a fling with Jose, but it never went beyond mutual “accidental” groping after a vodka drinking contest. It was long ago and not true, as they say in Russia.

But now Roman found himself openly staring at Fernando Torres’ ass. To his defense it was a nice ass – plump, perfectly round, mouthwatering, one that made you want to squeeze it endlessly. Yeah, Roman was literally obsessed with his blond striker. He was always honest with himself and confessed it was true right after Fernando’s transfer to Chelsea. He liked to watch him when he was still in Liverpool, silently enjoying the sight of his flushed cheeks which was brought out by his red uniform. Though he looked unbelievably hot also in blue. Maybe even hotter. Because blue was Chelsea’s. And Chelsea was Roman’s.

“Everything’s all right, Fernando?” he asked the striker after the training.

“Yeah, thanks, Mr. Abramovich,” Fernando answered. A trickle of sweat slowly went down his temple. Roman had a sudden urge to lick it.

“You did well in training today,” he said blinking a few times to make the thoughts go away.

“Thanks,” Fernando said, “I’m so grateful for your support. Though I don’t know why you still do it because I suck.”

“I wouldn’t mind if it was my cock you sucked,” Roman almost blurted out, but instead said, “You’re a great striker, Fernando. Everyone knows it.”

Fernando nodded. “Well, I’ve got to go,” he said, “Wife’s waiting. See you later, Mr. Abramovich.”

“Wait,” Roman said.

Fernando turned back to him.

“I want to kiss the unsure smile playing on your full lips. I want to lick every freckle on your body. I want to plunge my hands into your golden hair. I want to devour your white, soft throat,” Roman wanted to say but instead he said, “Good luck for the next game.”

“Thanks,” Fernando said again and left.

“Ugh, how much I want to pound hard into your perfect ass,” Roman thought as Fernando disappeared from his sight.

He left quickly afterwards himself. It wouldn’t be a good thing if the employees of Chelsea saw the club owner with a bulging erection.

 

After the second bottle of vodka Roman decided he’d had enough. He would fuck Fernando tonight at any cost. He was asking for it himself. Why else would he always mention how grateful he was every time they met or every time he did an interview? Now it was the time to pay back for Roman’s support. You can’t spread thank you on your bread as they say in Russia. Or on your cock in Roman’s case. Now it was clear as day for Roman that Fernando was just waiting to be fucked. Of course he couldn’t come and openly flirt with the club owner. But all his smiles, his words, his ass(!) were obvious signals. How stupid Roman was not to notice it before. He was the rightful owner of that ass and the rest of Fernando. After all he paid fifty millions for it.

 

~~~

Leo had temperature. He was lying on the bed as Fernando held his small hand. “He’ll sleep now,” he whispered to Olalla, “He just needs his daddy to be next to him, don’t you, Leo?” He kissed his son’s temple.

At that moment he heard his phone ring. Olalla looked at him surprised. Fernando knew what her look meant. “Who’s calling at this hour? Pray to god it’s not a woman.”

“It’s probably Juan or Sergio,” Fernando muttered searching for his phone, “I bet it’s something stupid.”

He found it and looked at the caller ID. His eyebrows rose. Why was Abramovich calling him at this hour?

“Hello.”

“Fernando. I need to talk to you. Can you come to my place?”

“Now?” Fernando asked surprised.

“Yes, it’s very important. It can’t wait.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

"It was Abramovich,” he explained to his wife, “He wants to see me.”

“Now? It’s almost midnight and your son is sick.”

“I know. Sorry baby, he said it’s really important. I’ll be back soon.”

He kissed his wife and went out taking his car keys.

 

Abramovich was sitting in his study. Fernando looked cautiously at the empty bottles of vodka on the desk. He was a bit anxious. What was the owner going to tell that couldn’t wait till the next day?

“Would you like something to drink, Fernando?” Abramovich asked.

“No, thanks, I don’t drink.”

“I insist,” Abramovich said and without waiting for the player’s answer went to the bar and came back with a glass of wine. Fernando took a sip but Abramovich looked hard at him until he didn’t drink the whole glass.

“What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” Fernando asked. He was starting to have an uneasy feeling. Maybe it was because of the wine or Abramovich’s mysterious smile.

“Fernando, you know how much I like you, don’t you?”

Fernando nodded. Oh no, was he going to say he wanted to sell him? Maybe he should have come with his agent. But Abramovich didn’t say anything. He sat on the desk right in front of Fernando and touched his hair with his fingertips. Fernando involuntarily drew his head back. But the Russian leaned forward and cupped his chin.

“Err.. Mr. Abramovich?” Fernando said. He couldn’t believe it was Chelsea’s owner in front of him. But Abramovich put his finger on the Spaniard’s lips. “Shh, I know you’ve been waiting for this. No need to hide it anymore. I’ll give you what you want.”

“I-I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t want anything,” Fernando stood up drastically, “I’d better go. It’s late. My son is sick and my wife is waiting for me.” He went to the door but suddenly felt very sick. The study started to spin around him.

“I think you’re not going anywhere, Fernando,” Abramovich said.

He walked slowly towards the forward. Fernando’s knees gave in. He stumbled and had to lean on the door not to fall down. Abramovich was watching him with a little smile.

“Don’t be afraid, Fernando, I’ll take care of you,” he said caressing his blond head.

Fernando shook his head. “No,” he said trying to get away from the Russian’s touch.

Abramovich smiled again. “No one says no to me.”

It was the last thing Fernando heard before he lost consciousness.

 

~~~

The boy was really beautiful. Roman had to congratulate himself again on his good taste. He was still asleep on the floor. Naked. Roman couldn’t wait the moment he would fuck him. But he wanted him to be at least conscious if not cooperating. Roman’s hands roamed on Fernando’s body. It was pleasantly warm. Roman felt the tight muscles on his abdomen, pinched his nipples and caressed the silk skin of his thighs. His hands mercilessly squeezed Fernando’s ass. Oh yes, it felt even better than it looked. Roman’s fingers prodded at his entrance. The boy groaned. Roman pushed his fingertip into the Spaniard’s ass. Fernando’s eyes jerked open. He blinked a few times apparently not understanding where he was, but his eyes went round when he felt what Roman was doing to him. The blond trashed violently but Roman held him at his place and continued to push in. Fernando whimpered and reddened immediately. Roman smiled satisfied and pulled him up to his knees. Finally, finally he was going to get what he wanted.

~~~

Fernando couldn’t believe this was happening to him. His head was still a bit heavy from whatever shit it was Abramovich had spiked his wine with and everything seemed in haze. His hands and feet were bound, the hard floor was hurting his knees, he was stark naked and the worst of all – his club owner was standing in front of him with his dick in hands. The whole situation was so terrifyingly absurd that Fernando didn’t even find the right words to say. In fact he didn’t have time because Abramovich pressed his cock to his lips. Fernando whimpered again and curled his lips inside. He wasn’t going to do it. He couldn’t make him. Abramovich took him by the back of his head and pressed his cock harder. Fernando shook his head. The older man pulled his hair making him look up.

“Open your mouth, Fernando,” he said gently, “I know you want it. C’mon, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Fernando pressed his lips tighter and threw at him a look full of hatred. Abramovich sighed and closed his hands around the striker’s throat. Fernando’s air supply was suddenly cut short. He couldn’t breathe. But he also couldn’t open his mouth. He couldn’t.

 

~~~

God knows, Roman didn’t want this. He had no idea why Fernando was making this difficult for both of them. If he just opened his mouth obediently and sucked him off. But no, he had to resist, he had to fight. Why wasn’t he so stubborn when it came to scoring goals? At last he opened his mouth to gulp air and Roman took the occasion to thrust his cock into the boy’s mouth. He tried to scream and it came out as half-snarl, half-whimper and sent vibrations along Roman’s dick. The Russian thrust deeper making Fernando gag. The player thrashed again trying to get free but Roman plunged his hands into the Spaniard’s blond hair and tugged painfully. Fernando stilled. Roman was thrusting harder and harder ignoring the pained noises and whimpers coming from below. His mouth felt heavenly. This was even better than he’d been hoping for.

~~~

Fernando felt absolutely humiliated. He was a grown-up man, a world-famous footballer, champion of the World and Europe, the Champions League winner. He had a family – wife, kids. He was respected and loved. And here he was choking at his employer’s cock, getting used like he was an inanimate thing. Abramovich yanked at his hair again. Fernando’s eyes watered.

“You can cry, you know,” Abramovich panted from above, “You’ll feel better.”

Fuck you. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Abramovich was moaning louder and louder. It made Fernando sick. He pressed the younger man’s face to his crotch. Fernando couldn’t breathe again. He was sure he’d die like this when Abramovich finally pulled out. He held Fernando’s mouth open and after one touch of his hand on his violently red erection he came on the blond’s face and into his mouth. When he let go Fernando’s head, the striker vomited on the floor right in front of Abramovich’s feet. His whole body was shaking. The tears were staining his cheeks and he lowered his head hoping the Russian wouldn’t see him cry. He wiped his face from come and tears and choked down a sob. Never in his life had he been in such miserable state. Thank god it was over.

 

~~~

Roman pulled the boy aside from the stinking pool of vomit. Yeah, the sight wasn’t too pleasant. Roman hadn’t considered this. He had thought Fernando would only be happy to suck his cock. But now he was lying curled up in a ball, head in his bound together hands, shaking and breathing unevenly. Roman sat next to him and patted his head. He felt how the Spaniard tensed immediately.

“You know what would be better for you, Fernando? If you just relaxed and admitted you want this.” Roman said.

Fernando didn’t answer. It annoyed Roman. He pulled his head up by his hair and looked him into the eyes. Fernando stared back defiantly.

“You should answer me when I talk to you,” Roman hissed.

Fernando remained silent. Roman’s gaze fell upon his limp cock. His lips curled up in a smile. The defiance in the striker’s eyes died a little.

“You’re so unresponsive, Fernando,” Roman said still looking at his cock, “I don’t like it.”

He grabbed the boy’s dick and started rubbing it. Fernando made a small guttural sound and tried to push Roman away, but the Russian yanked at his hair painfully and hardened his grip on his cock. Fernando whimpered. He mumbled something but Roman didn’t make out the words.

“What did you say?” he asked continuing to jerk him off.

“Let me go,” Fernando snarled.

Roman shook his head. “What’s the magic word?”

Fernando hesitated, but when Roman smiled at him triumphantly after drawing a response from his dick, he whispered, “Let me go, please.”

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“No.”

It surprised Roman. Maybe he should stop and let the boy free. His hand jerking Fernando off slowed down, but when he glanced at his shivering body again, he understood that he didn’t care. He didn’t care if Fernando liked it or not. Roman liked it and it was more important.

“Please stop,” Fernando said, “Let me go, my son is sick. He’s waiting for me”.

For some reason the mention of Fernando’s son made Roman incredibly angry. He took the Spaniard by the waist and put him on his hands and knees.

“You’re going to like it.” he snarled into his ear.

 

~~~

Fernando felt how Abramovich was parting his cheeks and pushing his finger in. He shook himself and tried to get away, but Abramovich didn’t let him. Fernando couldn’t believe this was real. He kept thinking he would wake up soon next to Olalla. Abramovich pushed in a second finger. Fernando cried out.

“Fuck, let me go. You can’t do this. Fuck you, let me go”.

“I can do everything I want,” Roman singsonged, “I paid money for you.”

“I’m not a whore! You paid money for me to play football,” Fernando cried.

“Well, you can’t play, so I decided to put you into a better use. You’re mine, Fernando. You belong to me. I can do what I want to you.”

He was clearly drunk or out of his mind. Or both. Fernando yelped when the third finger entered him. He was desperate. He didn’t know what to do. How not to let it happen.

“Please don’t do it,” he begged, “Don’t do this to me. Please, let me go. I won't tell anyone about this.”

“I’ll let you go.” Abramovich said placing his dick near Fernando’s ass, “But only after I’ve fucked you.”

He thrust hard into him. Fernando screamed. Tears started flowing down his cheeks freely again. But he didn’t care about it now. The searing pain was the only thing he could think about. Abramovich continued to thrust into him mercilessly. Fernando fell down on his elbows. Please, let this be over soon. Please.

 

~~~

Roman was going mad. He was in frenzy, thrusting in and out of the boy’s sweet ass. He was so tight around him, so fucking tight. Roman was kissing and biting him, licking his freckles like he’d always wanted to. The Spaniard was mumbling something, begging him to stop, but it just made Roman more wanting, made him thrust deeper, bite harder.

“Stop,” Fernando rasped out, “I won’t be able to play if you don’t stop.”

Roman smirked. The striker was clearly going desperate. He was trying to make Roman step back playing on his love for the club. Nice try, Fernando. But don’t worry. It would heal till your wedding, as they say in Russia. He squeezed his cock again. Fernando whimpered.

“Let’s see how you don’t like it,” Roman sneered rubbing his cock.

 

~~~

If Fernando thought he couldn’t feel more humiliated after Abramovich had made him suck him off, he was proven wrong. His mind just refused to comprehend what was going on. His club owner was _raping_ him and he couldn’t do anything about it. It was the worst – the helplessness, the desperation. He’d forgotten about his decision not to cry, because he couldn’t help sobbing when Abramovich changed the angle and hurt him more or when the horror of the situation reached his brain. When he felt the blood rush to his cock under Abramovich’s hand, he wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. He sobbed again when he felt his dick harden. He wanted to throw up. He’d never felt such disgust in his whole life. And worst of all he was disgusted with himself. He was sure he’d never forgive himself for responding, for giving in, for letting Abramovich sneer at him. The Russian’s hand was jerking him off roughly in rhythm with his thrusts. He chuckled when managed to draw out a moan from the forward. Fernando thrust his teeth into his hand to muffle the sounds. He was already thinking that it would never be over. That it would go on forever. He’d stay here forever in pain and despising himself. His body was burning. He didn’t want to think that he was fully hard now and craving release.

“Do you like it now?” Abramovich panted into his ear.

When Fernando didn’t answer, Abramovich bit hard his earlobe drawing blood. Fernando sank his teeth into his own hand not to cry out.

“Answer me,” the club owner ordered, “Do you like it?”

“No,” Fernando screamed.

“So you don’t want me to let you come?”

Of course, he wanted to. But he didn’t want to admit it to his tormentor. Abramovich squeezed the base of his cock.

“Tell me.”

“Y-yes.”

“You forgot the magic word again.”

“Yes… p-please,” Fernando breathed.

Oh, how much he loathed himself at that moment. Maybe as much as he hated Abramovich. The Russian’s hand slid down his length one more time and brought much needed release. Physical release. Emotional burden became heavier.

Abramovich came too soon after. His come filled Fernando and he felt it trickle down his thigh together with his blood. Abramovich pulled out and the striker fell on the floor. He wasn’t sure he could ever get up. But the Russian’s rough hands pulled him up. Fernando couldn’t look at him, couldn’t see his satisfied and smug face.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” Abramovich said casually as though nothing had happened and they were just having a chat, “Maybe I’ll keep you here. You know, like a slave. No one will know about it”.

Fernando froze. Everything went dark before his eyes. He would never go out. He would never see his family. He would never play football. He looked at Abramovich but didn’t really see him.

“No, no, please.” He didn’t care he was begging. “Don’t do this to me. Please, let me go. I have a family. If-if you want to,” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “You can do what… what you did to me… a-again, but then let me go, please.”

 

~~~

Of course Roman wasn’t going to keep the boy there. It just amused him to see his reaction, the horror in his eyes, to reduce him to begging and crying once again. He watched how he was trembling, trying to convince him to let him free, promising he would behave, he wouldn’t struggle, just please, please let him out to his family. He really believed Roman could keep him locked up forever. Roman could, of course, but he just didn’t want to. He’d been obsessed with Fernando for long months, maybe years. To have him had become a fixed idea for Roman. But now when he satisfied his desire, he didn’t want Fernando anymore. He’d always been like that. When he finally achieved something he wanted, he got tired of it quickly. Now he didn’t even understand why the Spaniard had appealed to him so much.

He took a knife out of his pocket and came up to Fernando to cut off his ropes. The striker had stopped pleading a minute ago and was just occasionally making small sounds in his throat. Roman appreciated that he tried so hard not to cry. The younger man looked at him with wide, frightened eyes, when he saw the knife. He started trembling again but Roman didn’t pay attention to it. He cut the ropes bounding his hands in one swift motion, then did the same with the ropes at his feet.

“I’ll bring you your clothes,” he said standing up.

 

~~~

Fernando was sitting in his car shivering. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened. He had no idea how he was going to live later on. What was he going to do tomorrow? Hell, what was he going to do now? It hurt so much to sit, but he didn’t have the strength to move. He had driven away immediately as soon as he was out of Abramovich’s house and had stopped only when he was at safe distance from him. He rubbed his face trying to think clearly but failed. His phone buzzed. A new message from Olalla in addition to the other two already received.

_Leo is awake. He wants you._  
 _Nora has temperature too. When will you be home?_  
 _I’m going to sleep. Come back soon._

Fernando sobbed loudly putting his head on the wheel. He should go home. The children were probably asleep in his and Olalla’s bed. They always did it when they didn’t feel well. Suddenly he missed his family so much. He felt like he hadn’t seen them for ages.

 

Before going upstairs he took a shower trying to clean off his memories together with his body. No matter how long he remained under the shower, he still felt dirty when he stood at the bedroom door looking at his wife and children sleeping peacefully on the bed. He had an irrational feeling of profound shame. As though he was guilty of an unforgivable crime. As though he didn’t deserve to be here. As though he didn’t have a right to look at them. He stood there desiring with all his heart to come in and lie next to them, but not daring to take even a step forward. He wanted more than anything to look at his family, to kiss them, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about the use his mouth had been put into. How could he ever kiss his wife or children again after… after that? With heavy heart he turned back to leave when he heard his wife’s voice.

“Amor, it’s you?” Olalla asked sleepily.

Fernando didn’t trust himself to speak so he just made an affirmative noise.

“Why are you standing there? Come to bed,” Olalla murmured and turned to her side.

Fernando swallowed and took an unsure step forward. Leo said something in his sleep. He talked when he was asleep more than when he was awake. Fernando couldn’t take it anymore. He lay quietly on the bed listening to the even breathing of his family. Oh, how much he’d missed them. How was he going to spend the night away from them? They were everything he had in his life. He could withstand hundred Abramovichs if his family was with him. Tears involuntarily started flowing from his eyes. Suddenly he felt small, warm hands on his cheeks.

“Daddy, why are you crying?” Nora whispered.

“It’s from… happiness, princess. I’m so happy to have you”.

Nora wiped away the tears with her tiny hands and kissed Fernando’s cheek.

“Don’t cry, daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too, princess. I’m not crying anymore, see?”

“No,” Nora laughed quietly. “It’s dark, daddy, how can I see you?”

“Well, I can see you,” Fernando said.

"How?” Nora whispered amazed. She probably thought her father was some kind of superman.

“Because you glow in the dark, princess.” Fernando kissed his daughter’s nose. “You’re my light in the darkness.”


End file.
